Calafia
by analogarhythmagic
Summary: The crew unexpectedly stumbles across another ship deep in the black. The exclusive luxury liner is set to hold the most extravagant party of the year, and the ship's mistress invites them on as special guests. However, what could be the grandest time of their lives could also turn out to be the deadliest. (Canon, takes place between "Jaynestown" and "Out of Gas")


**_Disclaimer:_**_ This is a derivative work of fiction solely intended for private use and entertainment. The author does not profit or benefit materially in any way from its publishing and distribution and, as such, believes the work constitutes fair use under the Fair Use doctrine of U.S. copyright law. All copyrights in the original work are retained by the original authors/owners._

**A/N: Although I technically started this story about a year and a half ago, I never got very far with it. Thanks to my obsessive editing and perfectionism, I've been too focused on my other two stories, _Presets_ and _Duel with the Devil_, to work on anything else. However, I needed to get away from them for a space, so I returned to this and found out that I had a pretty good start to it. It is set within the series, between "Jaynestown" and "Out of Gas" episodes, and was inspired by a song (which almost all of my stories are), although I won't say which song because that might give away the plot. I don't know when I'll get around to writing more of it, or posting on any of my other stories for that matter, but at least it feels good to get something new out. RER! (Read, Enjoy, Review).**

* * *

Towel thrown over his shoulder, nutri-chips crunching loudly in his ears, Jayne ambled up the steps from the dining area and through _Serenity_'s foredeck. He shuffled towards his bunk, his muscles burning with fatigue. Sweat stains darkened his t-shirt where it clung to the outlines of his chest and arms. He hadn't pushed himself that hard in a while, but the preacher was proving to be a formidable training partner. Damned if he was going to let the older man outdo him, he forced himself to dig deep to get in a few extra reps on the bench. He would surely pay for it tomorrow, but he was feeling right good about it now. The only thing that could top it would be a proper shower, and maybe a woman to romp with afterwards. Unfortunately he had already used up his weekly allotment of bathing time, and finding a woman this far out in the ass-end of the Verse was an unlikely notion. Although… there was Inara. He always thought it was a ruttin' shame to have a genuine Companion on board and not be able to take advantage of her services, but he was dreaming if he thought she would come down out of her fancified shuttle to grapple with him, even if he offered her all the coin in the Verse. Especially since right now he smelled worse than the hold after hauling that herd of cattle to Jiangyin a while back. He didn't even want to bunk with himself at this point. Not that he was really hurting for some play. It had only been nigh on a week since their stop in Canton, though he had spent most of the time since then trying to forget everything that happened in that little episode. That was why he was itching for some tail. Nothing took his mind off his troubles better than a willing woman, except maybe alcohol. But his whiskey stock was running low, and with more than a week still before they reached Bernoulli's, he hadn't been able to get as drunk as he would have preferred without seriously depleting his reserves.

He scowled a little as he swung onto the ladder of his bunk, trying to shift his thoughts elsewhere. In truth, he didn't worry about what happened in Canton all that much, just more often than he wanted to. Once that mudder kid had even popped up in his dreams, and he'd woken more shaken than he cared to admit. But it wasn't like he hadn't seen death before. Hell, he had been the cause of it plenty often enough. So why did this one gnaw at him so much? He tried not to dwell on it, but somehow it kept coming up. And since he couldn't drink or hump the memories away, he had taken to lifting a lot over the past few days. It kept him occupied and not thinking about the kid and his glassy-dead eyes as he rolled him over in the dirt. But now he would have to find something else to distract himself. There was always Vera. She could use some attention. Maybe he would spend the evening with her. Then he remembered the special treat he had been saving. He bought it on a whim on their last visit to Greenleaf and had been waiting for the right occasion to break it out. Now seemed as good a time as any. If he didn't indulge in the entire thing all at once, he might even have enough to last him a good couple of days. Swiping the towel over his face and snapping another of the satisfyingly bland chips between his teeth, he slid down his hatch.

"Mmmm… you know the bridge might not be the best place for this." Jayne paused at the bottom rung when his ear caught the hushed commentary drifting down from the bridge.

"Why not? I've always had this fantasy of combining my two greatest pleasures- you and flying," cracked Wash.

"It's just a little bit public for my taste," his wife murmured.

"I could close the door, post a 'do not disturb' sign outside." Zoe laughed at the suggestion, a sultry sound.

"You're supposed to be on watch," she purred, but it was hardly a reprimand. Intrigued, Jayne climbed up a few more rungs to get a better listen.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Wash went on. "In fact, I think we passed the sign for the point of no return yesterday. Pretty soon we'll be fallin' right off the edge of the Verse."

"Then you better make sure we stay on course."

"Why? What's the point? The end is inevitable," Wash said with fated resignation. "It is called it the point of _no_ _return_ for a reason. Wouldn't you rather spend your last moments in sweet rapture instead?" he asked tantilizingly.

"Definitely," Zoe's response was low and sensual, sending little shivers even up Jayne's spine. There was a long pause. "But not while on duty," she concluded with finality. Wash uttered a pitiful groan, the mood broken.

"C'mon, baby!" he pleaded, his footsteps trailing after his wife's as she crossed the bridge towards the stairs. Jayne ducked his head below floor level to stay out of sight. He listened as the two came to a stop in front of their shared bunk.

"You know the rules," Zoe reminded her husband as she swung the hatch open.

"Yeah, well what about a wife's duty to her husband?" Wash asked. "Or a… a husband's duty to his wife, is what I meant," he swiftly backtracked. Jayne could imagine the dangerous look that had probably prompted the retraction. But instead of snapping back as usual, Zoe sighed, a somewhat resigned sound.

"Look, I know we haven't had a night off together for a while, but things have been a little rough," she said in a much more tender tone. "I'll talk to the captain again. Maybe we can re-work the watch schedule. Okay?"

"Okay," Wash agreed reluctantly.

"Don't worry," she assured him. Their conversation dissolved into a breathy silence, and Jayne hazarded a peek out of his hatch. Zoe and Wash's lips were locked together in a passionate kiss, eyes closed and lost in the moment. That was at least until he loudly snapped one of his chips between his teeth. The couple broke apart sharply with surprised looks in his direction.

"Don't mind me," Jayne said with a leer. "Wouldn't wanna interrupt ya or nothin'." He consumed another chip with a purposeful smack of his lips.

"You'd better get back to work," Zoe said to her husband, reserving a glare for Jayne.

"Yeah. Sure," Wash muttered.

"Good night, dear," she called as she disappeared into their bunk.

"Good night," Wash answered

"G'night!" Jayne hollered with good humor.

"Thanks," Wash sneered as he headed back towards the cockpit. Jayne smirked, ignoring the glower the pilot threw his way. He watched Wash start up the stairs, feeling better that he wasn't the only one suffering disappointment in female department. There was something to be said for going without a woman's attention for space. Made it that much better the next time around. But if he had the choice, more was always preferable. He reckoned that was the only benefit to being attached, knowing you always had something waiting for you when you wanted it. But, as evidenced just now, even then it wasn't always a sure thing. Women could be a downright conniving bunch, which was why, as a rule, he didn't trust them. They always wanted something more in return for what they gave you, and it never added up to an even deal. Next thing you knew, they turned your manhood into a leash they could lead you around with. Zoe was as skilled as any of them at _yu fu shu_. He couldn't fathom how Wash stood for it, not that the pilot was the most _nan zi qi_ example out there in the first place. But he guessed some men were just weaker than others. He was perfectly content to trade all that _che dan_ for the kind of company you paid for. At least then both parties knew exactly what they were going to get out of it. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Hell, even Inara understood the advantages of doing it that way.

He was on his back into his room when Wash suddenly halted at the top of the stairs.

"Say, Jayne," the pilot turned around slowly. "You weren't doin' anything right now, were you?" he peered down with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

"Uh… why?" Jayne droned, wary of the rapid shift in Wash's attitude.

"'Cause if not, I thought you might wanna give a guy a hand and…"

"Oh, no. Sorry, little man," Jayne quickly discerned what was about. "Ain't my job to cover for you while you get some trim," he snorted with merciless pity and the dropped the rest of the way into his bunk.

"C'mon," Wash pleaded, coming down the stairs to Jayne's hatch. "Man to man. We gotta have each other's backs, right? It'll only be a few minutes."

"Hah! If that's all it takes, you ain't doin' it right. I need me at least twenty to get it done proper," Jayne snarked.

"Look, I'll buy you a couple rounds at our next stop. I'll pay you. Whatever you want."

"Well, you might consider _sharin'_ once in a while," he leered, unable to resist the urge to needle Wash a bit.

"Okay, anything but that," Wash corrected, closing his eyes and shaking his head in disgust. Jayne just chuckled, but at the same time an idea struck him.

"Tell you what, I could stand for a shower but I done used up all my 'llowance this week. You give me some o' yours an' I'll play lookout for you," he proposed.

"Deal," Wash grinned without hesitation and turned away, only to spin right back around. "Uh, just don't touch anything, okay?"

"Don't worry. I ain't gonna break the ship or nothin'," Jayne waved his concern away.

"And don't tell Mal."

"I ain't stupid, either," he spat.

"Good," Wash said, assured. He practically skipped over to his hatch and swung onto the ladder as it opened. "Hey baa-byy!" he lilted on his way down before the door slammed shut. Jayne shook his head. There was just something wrong with the Verse when a man was brought to his knees like that over a woman. He grabbed his special treat from its stash on the wall. At least he could enjoy it while playing watchdog, and have a shower to look forward to afterward. Then he climbed out and made his way up to the cockpit.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jayne was slouched deep in the copilot's chair, his feet propped up on the console. It had been a long time since he'd had one of these, and he had forgotten how potent the stuff was. It was not quite the same as being drunk, but not entirely different either. In any case, though, he sure was feeling mighty fine. He knew he should have been annoyed that Wash wasn't back yet, but by now he was too relaxed to care.

_Let him have his fun_, he thought magnanimously. _I'll just watch the clouds._ Bleary-eyed, he turned his face up to follow the smoke in its dance on the faint air currents issuing from the ventilation grate. He took another deep drag from the stogie between his fingers and blew out a fresh puff, gazing with amusement as the haze mingled with its counterparts in lazy swirls and eddies. He grinned satisfyingly, though his stomach apparently was not as content as the rest of him. It interrupted his sport with a loud growl. He sorely wished he had remembered to bring the bag of chips with him, but he had left them in his bunk and it seemed like too much effort to get up and fetch them. Plus, he couldn't feel his feet.

A slight cough from behind startled him and he swung belatedly around in the chair. River was standing just inside the doorway, frowning, her nose wrinkled up against the acrid smoke filling the room. He blinked for a second and then greeted her with a loose smile.

"Hey." She did not answer, but just gave him a sideways look, her mouth still drawn down into a frown. A strange, faint glow suffused about her, and Jayne squinted his eyes, trying to discern where it was coming from. She did not look entirely solid, but transparent around the edges, like picture taken with a camera out of focus. "D'you know you're all glow-y? And kinda fuzzy, too," he said. She threw him another disapproving glance and padded silently across the bridge. "How'd you do that?" he asked, mesmerized by the streams of light that trailed in her wake as she moved.

"Overstimulation of the occipital lobe brought on by an altered state of consciousness."

"Oh," he concluded, not at all following her explanation but deciding it was a pretty neat trick regardless. She ignored him and went to staring out the window as she stood at the head of the stairs which separated the two control stations. Jayne followed her gaze to the black space beyond, though he could not discern anything interesting out there. "Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked after a moment.

"Brothers and sisters."

"Who?"

"Stars," she replied.

"Huh?"

"Matter can neither be created nor destroyed," she elaborated over his confusion. "Given the approximate age of the universe, there's a near certain probability that at some point the matter consisting of our bodies was once part of a star. By that analogy, we're siblings." She turned to him with big, serious eyes. "There's a little stardust in all of us."

"Shiny," Jayne murmured, joining her in staring out the window. Even though he couldn't quite grasp how she arrived at that notion, he was sure it was real profound nonetheless. They both watched the blackness in silence for a while.

He was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept of being kin to a star when a blaring alarm shattered their quiet moment. River flinched and immediately covered her ears.

"What the hell?" Jayne exclaimed, nearly falling out of his chair. Lights strobed on the ceiling, blinding him with explosions of color. He got to his feet, but that was as far as he made it before tumbling into a tangle on the floor.

"_Gorram_, son-of-a- ruttin'… oh no," Wash's grousing tone carried up from the stairwell, suddenly turning frantic. "Jayne!" Bare feet slapped with urgency on the metal grating. "Jayne?" Wash burst through the bridge door, shirt undone and holding his pants up with one hand, to find Jayne sprawled on the floor. "What the hell…?" he uttered, pausing to register the scene. His head swiveled around the smoke-wreathed bridge in confusion, taking in River still covering her ears with her hands. Before he could ask questions, though, Mal's shout echoed from the foredeck.

"Wash!" The captain's boots pounded down the hall. Wash cast a panicked glance behind him and darted to the controls. The alarm went silent a second later. "Wash, talk to me! How bad is it?" Mal called.

"Uh… it's fine, Cap'n! No problems! We're fine!" Wash's voice was pitched high with terrified joviality.

"Holy… you call this fine?" Mal spluttered, vigorously waving the smoke from his face as he ran into a wall of it at the doorway. "Where'd all this smoke come from?"

"Baby, you okay?" Zoe appeared a few seconds behind Mal, and more completely attired than her husband. "Hoo!" she announced and started coughing as soon as the smoke hit her nostrils. "What's goin' on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Mal stated. Meanwhile, Jayne righted himself somewhat precariously and was brushing the ashes from his shirt front when he finally noticed the captain glaring at him with a sour expression.

"What?" he asked, not sure why he deserved the dirty look. "You wanna hit?" he held out the still-smoldering cigar stub, thinking maybe Mal was sore at him for not sharing.

"I'm gonna hit somethin' if you don't explain to me what you're doin' smokin' up on my bridge," the captain demanded, arms folding.

"Oh." Why had he come up here? Jayne frowned and scratched the stubble on his chin, his eyes drifting to the ceiling in introspection. He knew there was a reason for it, but for the life of him he couldn't recall it just now. His gaze sank to Wash who was staring at him with some kind of desperate look like he was about pitch a fit. That had something to do with it, he was pretty sure. He had been in his room when Wash came by… "Oh, yeah," that suddenly jogged his memory. "I's holdin' down the fort for Wash so he and Zoe could grapple a bit," he nodded with a sly grin at the pilot. Wash's expression fell and he leaned his forehead against his palm as if in great pain. Mal's eyebrows raised and he turned deliberately to his pilot.

"Wash?"

"Um, yeah, Cap'n?" Wash lifted his head and answered innocently, but his face was starting to shade red.

"You wanna clarify that?"

"Well… um, actually… heh heh…" Wash stammered.

"You told me the captain was covering the watch for you," Zoe interrupted, stepping closer to her husband, her arms crossed in displeasure.

"Well… not exactly. But it was covered," Wash blurted as if that was an acceptable excuse. Zoe's face darkened, and he shrank back against the console, eyes darting between the captain and his wife like a caged animal.

"So, you left Jayne in charge, despite my standing order to never, _ever_ leave him in command of the ship?" Mal summarized with dangerously controlled anger.

"_Ahem_… well…"

"And then," he swung back to Jayne, "he proceeds to fumigate my bridge while he's _supposed_ to be watchin' the ship."

Jayne honestly tried to keep a straight face. He knew he was in trouble, but he couldn't help it. Mal's expression just looked so damned funny! His mouth was all puckered like he'd just sucked down the biggest lemon imaginable, and his nostrils flared so much with each breath that he could count the individual nose hairs. That made him think about what the captain would look like with a moustache, and the resulting image he conjured reminded him of some ham-assed actor he'd once seen in an old vid on the Cortex. The guy was trying to be all dashing and heroic, but he just came off looking and sounding like an idiot. Of course, that was Mal half the time anyway, so it was a perfect fit. He snorted and tried to stifle a laugh, covering his mouth.

"Somethin' amusing in all this, Jayne?" Mal asked, taking a threatening step closer. The nose flared even more. _Gorram_ it, he couldn't take it! Jayne burst into laughter and collapsed into the copilot's chair.

"Let's see how funny you think it is when you're cleanin' out latrines every day for a month," Mal snapped.

"I'm…. I'm sorry, Mal," Jayne managed between guffaws. "But… you should see your face… it's just… with a moustache….!" He descended into another uncontrollable fit at the refreshed visual, clutching his sides. He was also aware of Zoe and Wash giving him odd looks behind Mal's back, which made it all the worse.

"Um… is he okay?" Wash posed with real concern.

"_Gorram_ it!" Mal's face flashed with wrath and he snatched the burning cigar from Jayne's hand. He looked like he was about to smash it into his mercenary's face, but then his nose turned up in disgust when he caught a whiff of the fresh smoke wafting off the hot end.

"_Ta ma de_ that reeks! What the hell is that?" Mal held the cigar at arm's length, his disgust momentarily overwhelming his ire.

"_Cannabis sativa_," River, silent until now, answered.

"Cannabi- you let Jayne take over the watch when he's…" Mal whirled on Wash, anger freshly stoked.

"He wasn't when I asked him! I swear!" Wash cried, raising his hands in defense.

"Cap'n! Where's the fire?" Kaylee rushed panicky and breathless into the room before Mal could completely explode.

"There isn't one. False alarm," Mal gritted, reserving withering looks for both Jayne and Wash, the latter of whom cowed away.

"What about all the smoke? Sure smells like somethin's burnin'," Kaylee said, crinkling her nose.

"That's just Jayne's brain cells."

"Mal, is everything all ri… _tian ya_!" Inara arrived on Kaylee's heels, exclaiming as the stench of the smoke hit her, too. She coughed and covered her mouth.

"I heard the alarm. What's going on?" Book added his presence to the already crowded cockpit.

"Nothin' preacher. Everything's fine," Mal answered, his former anger now dwindling to mere resignation.

"Are you sure?" Book rejoined, brow knitted in concern.

"Has anyone seen River? I can't find… River!" Simon interrupted himself as he rounded out the crowd and spotted his sister among them. "What are you doing up here?"

"We was just sayin' hi to all our brothers an' sisters," Jayne offered, his laughter mostly under control now, though his ribs still ached from it. "We're like family 'cause we all go some star stuff in us," he explained to Simon's searching look. Mal's chin sank and he rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Jayne, shut up."

"Well we do," Jayne tried to conjure a defensive tone, but that moustache popped into his head again, and he could not suppress a grin and the attendant chuckles that came with it.

Another buzzing alarm abruptly cried out in the hazy cockpit, startling everyone.

"Wash, crank up the _gorram_ air handlers for the bridge," Mal replied to it.

"It's not that," Wash said as he slapped off the alert. His fingers tapped staccato on the keyboard at his console. "What the…?" he frowned at his screen.

"What?" Mal asked.

"What is it?" seconded Zoe.

"We just lost the Cortex nav beacon," Wash replied.

"Well, coverage is sometimes spotty out here, ain't it?" Mal mentioned.

"Yeah, but this isn't a weak signal. It's just gone." He threw the captain a perplexed look.

"That ain't possible." Mal responded, sounding equally confused. He moved to the helm and leaned over his pilot's side. "Check the receiver."

"I am," Wash's response was impatient.

"Could it have gone down for some reason? Maybe a maintenance interval or technical problem?" Simon proffered.

"The Alliance wouldn't risk a shut down of navigation without at least having a back-up," Book countered. "The whole Verse would grind to a halt otherwise." He joined Zoe and Mal behind Wash's seat, unease written across his dark visage.

"He's right. It'd take somethin' catastrophic for that to happen," Zoe agreed.

"Catastrophic? Like what?" Simon asked with some trepidation.

"Diagnostic is coming back fine. The receiver is working. The signal's just not there," Wash gave the results of his system check.

"Well, put us in a holding position. We keep movin' without a beacon and we're liable to end up halfway to the next Verse," Mal ordered.

"Impossible. The most proximal star outside of the system is located twelve point six-nine-four light years away. Fuel and consumables would be expended in approximately twenty-eight days," River concluded quietly and utterly serious. Everyone gave her blank looks.

"Does she even understand the notion of metaphor?" Mal turned to her brother in exasperation. "I thought she was a genius?"

"Hyperbole. Exaggeration to emphasize a point," River corrected and flashed the captain what might have been the faintest of dirty looks.

"Yes, thank you. Get her out of here, please," he told Simon. "The rest of you, too."

"Come on, River," Simon reached for her hand.

"But there's something out there," River turned to the darkness outside the cockpit window.

"No there's not. It's just empty space. Let's go. The captain wants us off the bridge." Simon tried to lead her away, but she resisted. By this time, Jayne had joined her again and was squinting out into the black.

"Hey, there is somethin' out there," he confirmed.

"Jayne, you're more candied than a fruitcake. Of course you're seein' things," Mal dismissed him.

"Mmm, now _that_'d hit the spot right about now," Jayne muttered with a wistful grin, the captain's confectionary insult reminding him of his hunger.

"Uh, sir?" Zoe spoke up.

"What?"

"I think they're right."

"Huh?" Mal jerked his head to the window.

"Look there. See that glint? That ain't no star," she jabbed her finger out the window. Mal leaned over the console to get a better view of what she was pointing at.

"Yeah. I see it too," Wash agreed, lifting half out of his seat to stare. The others moved closer to the window as well, curious.

"Ruttin' hell," Mal muttered, catching sight of the object. "What is that? Wash…" he started to ask.

"I got nothin'," Wash was already relaying readings from his screens. "Thermal, EMF, radar. If it's that close we should have picked it up by now, but it's not showing up on anything."

"Somethin' wrong with the _gorram_ sensor array, too?"

"I don't know, Mal!"

"Well, stop us before we run into it." Whilst Wash set to reducing their speed, Mal tapped his fingers on the console, pondering.

"It could just be a piece of junk, something that drifted out here," Book postulated.

"This far out?" Zoe doubted his assessment. "More likely it was left behind by someone."

"But what would another ship be doing all the way out here?" asked Inara.

"Same thing we are," Mal jumped back into the conversation. "Stayin' out of sight. Could be a drop point for smugglers or somethin' of the like."

"What about… um, Reavers?" Simon's hesitant remark sent a tense chill through the entire gathering. Everyone's eyes were drawn back to the viewports.

"It's not likely," Zoe spoke. "They'd stick closer to civilization and the main navigation routes. There's nothing out here for them to raid." Although her explanation was perfectly rational, her voice lacked its usual surety.

"All the same, don't wanna discount the possibility," Mal cautioned, which did little to assuage the unease on the bridge. "Keep your distance, Wash, and run diagnostics on the all the sensors. Kaylee, you and me are gonna get suited up and have a look to see if anything's gotten damaged on the outside. _Dong ma_?" Kaylee nodded, her lips tight with apprehension, but she dutifully headed off the bridge. "Zoe, you've got the com," Mal ordered, following behind Kaylee. "Keep the radio open in case they try to hail us," he told Wash, "but don't make contact. They so much as twitch the wrong way and you be ready to get us out of here," he instructed before vanishing through the bulkhead.

"Aye, Captain," Wash affirmed. The bridge descended into silence as the remaining crew continued to stare at the dull silver dot in the window.

"What do you suppose it is?" Inara asked to no one in particular, and nobody voiced a response. The silence dragged on for a few more seconds.

"Well, I don't know 'bout y'all, but I'm starvin'," Jayne announced. Ignoring everyone's various looks, he followed the call of his stomach off the bridge and down to the galley.

* * *

_yu fu shu_- art of controlling a husband

_nan zi qi_- manly, masculine

_che dan_- bullshit, nonsense

_Ta ma de_- "Damn!"

_tian ya_- "My goodness!"


End file.
